


THEOGONIA

by Vivian



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: (Seraphi is still alive), F/M, Parent/Child Incest, Sexual Content, this is sort of dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3933988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian/pseuds/Vivian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her eyes he sees himself laid bare, stripped to the bone. Every desire and fear glistening like a treasure for her to collect. And she takes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	THEOGONIA

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abrassaxe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrassaxe/gifts).



> This piece happened thanks to a conversation I had with canterville who is a wonderful person to talk to, especially about JA. <3  
> Also heavily inspired by Christian Death's lyrics for "Mother".  
> Please let me know what you think!

Balem is on the edge of sleep. Outside the sun rises. Storm clouds dark and grim hang in the sky of Rhea. Now red light creeps over them, potent, sneering, vicious.

With a flick of his hand the windows shut. Darkness. But never enough. Balem stares into the blackness. Only a few hours are at his disposal. He feels for the small, slender device on his night-stand. It is cool in his hands. He presses it against his lips, pushes the button and breathes in. He sinks into sleep like a dead bird into the sea.

 

She stands with a veil of night falling from a crown to her bare feet. A stone phantom with two suns behind her head. Her smile splits him in half.

 _Mother_ , he says, _mother_ ,and tears the veil from her. Reveals her like a prophecy.

She takes his hand and fate is in her touch. As it always is. Warmth. His breath hitches. He feels both like dying and being reborn when they kiss. She is all there is and ever will be. She knows that, too. She is the beginning and the end. She is the reason he is alive and she will be the reason of his death, he is certain of it. One way or another. He has always known. He does not question it. Her lips upon his mouth, her hand seizes his hair, pulls his head back. She licks along his neck while he moves against her. Yet even when they press against each other, they are not close enough. Two separate bodies. _Can I come back to you_ , he whispers, c _an I come back to you?_

This world is too bright, too far. It has strung him like a chord and he has never stopped trembling. He is a sound and a colour in this universe. He doesn't want to be. He wants silence. Two aligned heartbeats. Warmth and nourishing blackness. Questionless.

She pushes him down gently. She needs no force to hurt him. Then he's inside her. He bites down a moan. Above him she is radiant and sharp. In her eyes he sees himself laid bare, stripped to the bone. Every desire and fear glistening like a treasure for her to collect. And she takes everything. He moves, claws his fingers into her hips. Her hand curves over his mouth. He's all shuddering breaths and violence. And she, a creature old and hungry, feasting, gloating, terrible. She laughs when he bites his lips. Copper on his tongue. Tension. Suddenly she is on her back, hair spilling in shimmering waves, her skin pale as bone. He slides into her desperately. Such stillness in her eyes. It's not enough. Words fall from his lips, they are like splashes of colour in the dimness, brush-strokes of a blind artist. Confessions. But his mother knows nothing of absolution.

His hands on her thighs. He slips out of her. He moves down. His lips graze her skin, his tongue, his fingers. He cannot breathe. He claws into her. Crawls into her. Back into her.

 

To sleep underneath her heart. And dream of shapeless eternities.

 

Until he is broken into light. It is loud, it is a scream, the noise of a million creatures howling. From the dark vault he is torn. He struggles, cries out. To no avail. He is just a thing of muscle and trembling flesh.

Coldness and the width of the world. He feels like suffocating.Only a cord between them now. His heart beats fast, hard. Terror washes over him.

He hears her say: _I want to do it myself._ And they give her the knife.

She cuts the cord.

 

Balem wakes with a scream on his lips.

He swallows it down. He weeps without a sound. They are no longer one.

His cheeks are wet. Salt on his lips. The smell of his spent semen in the air.

He he cleans himself with the bed-sheet, rubbing over his skin until it hurts. Something burns his insides, he doesn't know if it is shame or wrath. His breath quickens.

In one fell swoop he sits up. His throat feels raw, as if he had been screaming. Has he? Irrelevant. Cold sweat clings to his skin. His heart still races. It has been so long. He has not seen her in fifty years, but the lines of her face have been etched into his memories. The shape of her lips. The glint of her eyes. She is all he knows.

With a flick of his hand a soft glow illuminates the room. Balem stands, then calls for a sim. He has to get ready. Mr Night will be here shortly. There are matters to be attended, files he needs to review. He can pretend his fingers aren't still shaking.

 


End file.
